


Right Side Up or Upside Down

by Callie, cerie



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Backstory, F/M, First Date, Pre-Series, Rain, dating disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:45:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callie/pseuds/Callie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You should be making men want to be you and women want to fuck you." Will gets a substitute EP for his show and the rest is history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Side Up or Upside Down

**Author's Note:**

> Over on tumblr, we were taking prompts for Will/Mac drabbles, and herebird mentioned Hurricane Katrina, and inkpenpencil asked about their first date, and after we wrote those as drabbles we said "fuck it, let's write this thing properly", and then this happened.
> 
> Title is from the Dave Matthews song "Crush".

There's a new EP in the building. Will's only seen her a couple of times passing through the office; she works for the six o'clock show and he doesn't ever interact with her. But he sees her passing through and he can't help but notice her legs. She wears the kind of plain, unassuming, professional-office-wear that any other woman at her level in this building would wear, but even the boring clothes can't hide a pair of fucking fantastic legs that seem to go on for days.

"MacKenzie McHale," Charlie says, when he asks. "The new EP for six o'clock. She's only been here two weeks and already the six o'clock ratings are higher than they've ever been."

Will finds himself trying to arrange to be in the same room as MacKenzie, or at least the same hallway, but it's futile. She's busy and she moves _fast_ and she never seems to be at her desk for more than five minutes so he can't even corner her to say hello, much less ask her out.

Then one evening, when he sits down at the anchor desk, there's an unfamiliar voice in his ear.

"Actually, if you're going to talk about the damned hurricane, please actually find something insightful to say. Otherwise, there's a situation in Darfur that sorely needs addressing." It's a crisp, take-no-shit voice with round English vowels and it's laced with enough sheer irritation that Will's caught completely off guard.

Who the fuck is that in my ear? Whoever she is, she's fucking annoying (okay, his usual EP is, too, but this is completely different). He waits till commercial, then says, "Who the hell are you? Where is Daniel?"

"Daniel is in the hospital getting fluids. He's got food poisoning," this Mystery Woman informs him. "I'm MacKenzie. And you are doing yourself a disservice by not talking about the fact that the UN is evacuating their staff from Sudan because of the Darfur crisis but they refuse to authorize military action. Talking about Katrina is pointless."

"What? Why didn't anybody tell me he wasn't going to be here?" His EP had looked kind of green in the rundown meeting, but Will hadn't thought much about it because Daniel usually looks kind of green in every rundown meeting. "And okay, MacKenzie, whoever, you weren't in the rundown meeting and you didn't put this script together, so how about you just let me do my show?"

"I am aware I didn't put your script together because I would never let you run this bullshit on my watch. We don't do this at six o'clock," MacKenzie says. "And, since Daniel is indisposed, you belong to me right now. I really think you'd do well to toss the Katrina shit and do some real news."

"Well, I'm the managing editor of this show, and I get the final say, so I don't really care what you think I need to do with this broadcast or any other broadcast. Run your own show and I'll run mine."

 _Did she say they don't do this at six o' clock?_ Shit.

"You're MacKenzie _McHale_?"

"Yes, McHale." The reply is sharp and clearly fed up with him, and Will isn't used to being talked to like that. He's used to giving people shit and them taking it, not having it handed right back to him with a side order of sass like MacKenzie is doing right now. "I'm not sure why it matters as you just so eloquently told me that I should run my own show and stop trying to run yours. At least ask the damned follow-ups about the fact there's a possibility those levees failed because they were designed poorly and not because Katrina kicked up more water than previously ever experienced. You have those facts in front of you."

 _What the fuck...?_ Will isn't sure why he cares about what this woman thinks of him, other than the fact that he's been trying to meet her for weeks and she's clearly unimpressed with how he does his job. He doesn't care, not really, but when they come back from commercial he's got someone from the Army Corps of Engineers that he’s pressing about the levees, since it’s not really a new thing that these levees were poorly designed even if the engineers were trying to push it back onto local maintenance issues and not inherent design flaws.

When the show is over, Will pulls out his earpiece and peels out of the studio so fast he almost knocks the chair over at the anchor desk. He's in a hurry because he wants to find this MacKenzie person and--well, he doesn't know whether he wants to tell her off or ask her out or something else he hasn't figured out yet.

*****

MacKenzie is still trying to gather up her things. She's a little slower than usual because it's late and she's just run two shows back to back with very little downtime between and when she sees him yanking open the door to the control room, her spine stiffens; this is not the confrontation she wants to deal with tonight.

"Can I possibly help you?" She isn't used to the on-air talent coming in here and she knows she rode him a little hard tonight.

"I've been trying to meet you since you got here." MacKenzie is fairly certain that’s bullshit, considering she’s only just started working at ACN and she isn’t anywhere near his show on a regular basis.

"You didn't know who I was until twenty minutes ago," MacKenzie scoffs. "So that is a lie. I apologize for overstepping my mandate as a substitute producer but you really need to discuss these things with Daniel. You're far too intelligent to pass bullshit off as news."

She finishes gathering up her things and pulls off her headset, dropping it around her neck. Perhaps if she seems busy, he won't feel the need to follow her back to her office to berate her.

"No, I knew who you were," Will says. "I've seen you around and I asked Charlie who you were and I kept trying to come and say hello, but I could never find you anywhere. I just didn't know that was you in my ear." He seems insistent about speaking to her and MacKenzie isn’t entirely sure what she thinks about that; she’s just a fill-in for a few days and not someone of any real importance. "Thank you for stepping in, even if you think the show is bullshit."

"You asked the president of the news division who a new producer for a mid-tier broadcast was? I know bullshit when I hear it," MacKenzie says, rolling her eyes. He's thanked her, though, and she feels the need to acknowledge that.

"You're very welcome. Could we possibly have this discussion elsewhere if you insist upon having it? I would like to not have an audience for my inevitable reaming."

"What? I'm not going to ream you out," Will laughs. "I mean, I _should_ , since you apparently wanted me to change the entire format of my show on the fly, but I'm not going to, because I want to ask you out."

" _What?_ No! Who the fuck do you think you are, calling me out for doing my job while taking over for my colleague and now you're asking me out in front of people I work with? Let me tell you something, I am not some...some cheap piece of...I have degrees from Cambridge and Columbia and no. You don't get to reduce me to this," MacKenzie says, utterly disgusted.

She brushes past him forcefully, not caring if she's making a scene because it's fucking ridiculous, and she stalks down to her office.

Will follows her out of the studio and down the hall, his long strides matching hers easily. "Hey, MacKenzie," he says, and she feels her spine stiffen. She doesn’t want him sniffing around behind her thinking he can get something that he feels like he’s _entitled_ to because...because of something. Because she’s a woman in a man’s world. "I'm sorry, I wasn't reducing you to anything," he says. "You're good at what you do. I know you've got six o'clock to higher ratings than they've ever had and that's really an accomplishment because it's six o'clock and--okay, I'm just rambling and I'm going to stop now if you'll just stop walking for a second."

"You may refer to me as Ms. McHale," MacKenzie says, even if it's stupid because everyone in this office is on a first-name basis, even the on-air talent. It makes her feel like she has a little more power in this even though she knows, ultimately, if anything came out it would likely be in Will McAvoy’s favor and not her own.

"And you have some fucking nerve, following me. Unless what you have to say pertains directly to tonight's broadcast or is an apology for treating me like I'm just going to open my legs for you because you're Will _fucking_ McAvoy, I have no desire whatsoever to speak to you."

"Okay," he says, and backs away. "I apologize for being rude and making assumptions. Sorry to bother you. Thanks again for filling in tonight. I'll find someone to cover tomorrow if Daniel's not up to it."

MacKenzie sighs, glad that’s over, and heads home. When she arrives at the office the next morning, there’s a beautiful potted plant, subtle, and she is more than shocked that someone has sent her flowers. The card reads, "Apologies for being an ass. Thanks for your help," but isn't actually signed.

MacKenzie knows who the flowers are from and she's touched he didn't sign the card and embarrass her further. She thinks possibly she was a little harsh on him, owing mostly to the fact that he embarrassed her in front of everyone and she thinks she likely owes _him_ an apology.

She's busy but she takes some time out to go to his office, intending to just stick her head in to apologize before leaving him be. "Will? Could I possibly speak with you for a moment?"

She waits a beat. "Privately?"

*****

Will's on his feet the minute she opens the door--honestly, he hadn't expected to hear from her again, at least not anytime soon, and he's surprised that she's here. "Yeah," he says, trying not to seem too eager. "Sure, absolutely. Come on in." He doesn't sit down and won't, unless she does. She's probably only here for a minute anyway. "What can I do for you, Ms. McHale?"

"MacKenzie," she says, and her face flushes faintly pink. "Thank you for the flowers."

She pauses for a moment and smooths down her skirt, not that it appears to need it. "Thank you for not signing the card and embarrassing me further. I've only just started working here and only just started in television itself and I didn't want people to think I got my job for the wrong reasons."

"Yeah, no, it's totally my fault," he says. "I was pushy and aggressive and I shouldn't have pounced on you like that. It was totally inappropriate." And unprofessional and just dumb, but he wasn't really thinking at the time. "Can we start over?" He comes around the desk, extending his hand. "I'm Will."

"I'm MacKenzie," she offers back, and shakes his hand lightly. "It's just as well that we've made amends as your EP is going to be in the hospital for the rest of the week. I'll have to pull duty for both six and eight now. I suppose you can continue to have your rundown meeting whenever it is convenient to you but I only have the hour between seven and eight free."

How is he just now finding out that his EP is out of commission for a while? He's missing some memos. "Can you do that?" Six and eight are both important shows for the network and that's a lot of producing for one person. "I'm not questioning your abilities," he adds quickly. "I've heard what you've done at six and it's impressive. I'm just saying, that's a lot for one person to take on."

"I'm not leaving my show with someone else," MacKenzie says, shrugging. "I'll just be very tired by the end of the night and it will be only for a few days. I think I can manage. Anyway, so if you can tolerate me for a few more days without asking me out or yelling at me, it will be appreciated."

"I promise not to yell at you if you promise not to try to rearrange my show," he says easily. (He's making no promises about not asking her out again, though. He's never met anyone who sticks to her principles the way MacKenzie seems to and that's intriguing to him.) "You don't have to like the format or the content or even the anchor. Just make sure it runs smoothly. That's all I ask."

"I can't in good conscience put my name on something I don't agree with," MacKenzie says, and she sounds appalled. "If I'm filling in for Daniel, I will get to have a say in what we do. Otherwise, you can find another executive producer. I'm not the type of producer who just nods and smiles and doesn't _do_ anything, that's not who I am."

"You're not putting your name on it," Will says. "You're filling in for my EP. It's still _my_ show. I'm happy to have you fill in and I appreciate the amount of work that goes into EPing two shows, but it's still _my_ show. You won't even be there for all of the meetings and it's my staff that's putting in the stories. If you were planning to be on this show long-term, I'd be willing to talk about changes, but for a few days? No." It's not that he's philosophically opposed to what she's pushing, but he likes what he's doing and he's comfortable with it and if she makes the changes she wants to make they won't stick once Daniel's back. He's not rocking the boat for a temporary change.

"Fine," MacKenzie says, squaring her shoulders. "Then I want you to go to Charlie Skinner and tell him precisely that and explain why he's going to have to find someone else to fill in for you the rest of this week because I'm not doing it. We'll just all go have a meeting with Charlie."

Will considers this for a long moment. He hasn't had anyone really stand up to him like this before and insist on their way even after he's said no (repeatedly). She's pretty brave, for a new producer, and he likes it. "You get one story a night," he tells her, "to do however you want it. You're getting your way at six, remember. One story at eight. Whatever you want, however you want it, wherever you want it in the show, with no bitching from me." If she's smart, she'll take it, because he's not willing to bend more than that for a temporary change.

She doesn't seem willing to budge. "Is this because you think I can do it or because you want to sleep with me?"

"I think you could do a lot of good with this show," he says. "And if you were going to be sticking around longer, I'd give you free rein to do what you want. But you're not, and I'm not making drastic changes that won't stick after you're gone. I'm the one that's still going to be behind that desk when you go back to six o' clock, so ultimately, it has to be up to me."

"But you could do this show when Daniel comes back!" MacKenzie argues. "There's nothing to say you can't do the same show without me at the helm. It's completely doable. It's just a waste for an intelligent and dynamic anchor like you to be doing stories about hurricanes and breast cancer. You could be really changing the public dialogue about a lot of things and you have this hour a night that's just getting squandered. Who dresses you?"

"I do," Will says, as though this is blatantly obvious, and he frowns a little at it because his focus group data hasn't pinged anything about his appearance. (He's a little vain about it, if he's honest, which he's not going to be with her right now.) "And look. Daniel's a nice guy, he's a decent EP, but he's not the kind of EP that can run the kind of show you're talking about and I'm not making changes that aren't going to stick in the long term." If she cares this much about his fucking show, why doesn't she just come on over? He can't understand why she cares so damn much about a show that isn't hers and an anchor she's made clear she can't stand (the bits about _intelligent and dynamic_ aside).

"Well, you're doing it wrong. Look at me, I'm twenty-nine, well, thirty now, but I'm exactly the type of woman you want watching your show. You should be making men want to be you and women want to fuck you. I want you in black, Hugo Boss, Armani, Gucci, and I want you in blue shirts. Just try it for a little while and see how much your viewership goes up. You'll be astounded." MacKenzie flashes him a smile. "And then you'll have a lot more latitude to do precisely what you want with your hour of primetime."

He's sorely tempted to make a crack about wanting _her_ to fuck him, (especially when she gives him a smile like that) but he's decided he wants to impress her instead of pissing her off or annoying her, so he manages to hold it back... most of it, anyway. "All right," he says, grinning at her. "I can do that." Does he have a problem looking more fuckable? Hell no. "I'll give you one story a night and a wardrobe change, though I still can't figure out why you're so invested in a show that isn't yours and an anchor you can't stand."

"Because I've seen you. You're smart, Will. If I was producing your show, I'd have you debating serious issues and bringing the _news_ , not just the news that people want to hear from the political perspective they want to hear it from. You're smart and charming and you can do a lot more with yourself than you are and I hate seeing wasted potential. So I think you owe it to yourself to stop being a Midwestern schmuck who doesn't want to offend anyone and be a sexy, brilliant lawyer instead."

"It's too bad you're not producing my show on a regular basis, then," Will says, and the regret in his voice isn't faked. "Six o' clock is lucky to have you." He shuffles some papers around on his desk and looks for a cigarette to cover what threatens to become an epic fucking sulking session. "I have to go to a meeting," he says. "It was good talking to you."

It's a little abrupt, because yeah, he's fucking jealous that six o'clock gets this fucking fantastic EP who isn't afraid to say what she thinks and he gets... Daniel, who gets this particular job done but he's afraid to push Will to do more. Yeah, it fucking sucks.

Will goes out of his way to do exactly what MacKenzie requested for the broadcast tonight, especially regarding wardrobe. If she thinks he ought to look more fuckable... well. So he acquires a black Armani suit and a dark blue striped tie for tonight's broadcast and selfishly, like he's a goddamn teenager, he wants to know what she thinks about it after the show.

He catches her as she's coming out of the control room. "Hello," he says cheerfully. "Good show tonight."

"Yes, excellent show," MacKenzie says, nervously tucking a piece of hair that fell out of her ponytail back behind her ear. It falls forward again, brushing against her cheek and she makes a little frustrated noise and just tugs the whole thing down and shakes her hair out. "If you'll excuse me, I've got a few things to wrap up before I head home tonight. Things...in my office...yes."

She's fucking beautiful. That's all Will can think about as she fusses with her hair. She's beautiful, and fucking brilliant--she was hardly involved in any of the planning for tonight's show except for the Darfur segment, and yet she had her fingers on every bit of it as if she wrote every word of the script by herself. Will has had good EPs, and okay EPs, and one or two complete disasters of EPs, but he's never had one as good as she is. And again, he's fucking jealous that six o'clock gets her permanently and he doesn't. How is that fucking fair?

There's no point in getting pissed about it, though, and if he stands here much longer and talks to her, he's going to. "Okay," he says, with an air of cheerful unconcern that he doesn't really feel. "Have a good night."

 

*****

MacKenzie frowns a little because she hadn't expected him to just _leave_ so easily and had geared herself up for a fight. It doesn't matter, though, because she ends up writing his segments for the next few days and running both shows and by the time Friday at nine has rolled around, she's so exhausted that she wants to crawl into her bed and sleep for the next seventy two hours. She won't, because she's terrible at being idle, but it's a nice fantasy. She has every intention of clearing out right at nine but she gets stalled by a few of the APs asking questions; it seems Daniel isn't as open to that as she is and he's been doing this a lot longer and feels a little more removed from the younger staff. MacKenzie is their age or a little older, mostly, and they feel more comfortable with her.

She's wrapping up a conversation with one of them when she sees Will out of the corner of her eye and she does want to thank him for giving her the opportunity to run this show and for listening to her advice. "You did well talking about the UN tonight. I knew you had it in you."

"You had a lot of good ideas," he says, "and I enjoyed working with you. I guess it's back to the same old, same old on Monday." He shrugs a little and tugs at his tie to loosen it. MacKenzie looks away because he’s actually fucking gorgeous and she needs to not make an ass of herself in front of him yet again.

She’s distracted when she hears him speak again and it takes her a little while to parse exactly what he’s saying. "Listen," he says. "I know this didn't go so well the first time I asked, and it probably won't go well this time so I'm not sure why I'm asking again--except for the fact that I'm stubborn and kind of a slow learner--but would you consider having dinner with me tomorrow night? It's not a date," he says quickly. "It's a thank you for busting your ass on the show this week. That's all."

MacKenzie is primed to say no but when he clarifies that it's not a date and merely a thank-you between colleagues, she changes her mind. He really did listen to her after she had it out with him the first night and the show is already a little smarter. It's still not quite what she'd do, of course, but it'll do for Will and News Night, and possibly some of it will stay around after Daniel comes back next week. MacKenzie tucks her hair back behind her ear and flashes him a quick smile.

"Well, as long as it's not a date and it's a work-related thing, I think I could accept that invitation. Where should I meet you?"

"Mercer Kitchen? I'll get a reservation and let you know what time. Seven okay?" MacKenzie feels like he’s trying very, very hard to be nonchalant and it’s sort of cute in a way because this is a man who talks to millions of people on camera every day and he’s nervous about asking a woman to dinner with him for a business meeting.

"Seven will be fine," MacKenzie promises.

While it's not a date, she does put a little more effort into her appearance than she does at work and wears a little makeup (not too much - she looks ridiculous when she's done up) and sets her hair with rollers so it's flippy and bouncy. Brian always hated her hair short and now that she's single, she's embracing the fact that she can do whatever the fuck she wants with it. She chooses a black dress, a little sexy for work but still modest, and for some inexplicable reason she wears stockings instead of going with bare legs. She turns up at the restaurant early, which is awkward, and sits at the bar with a cocktail in a vain attempt to calm her nerves.

*****

Will is nervous. It's not like it's a date, as much as he wishes it was, and that is a little disappointing. But the black Armani suit from the show earlier in the week finds its way to his personal closet (he's going to take it back, he's just borrowing it), though he decides at the last minute to ditch the tie and leave the collar open. He doesn't want to actually look like he's at work and about to go on the air even if this is supposedly a business dinner between colleagues. Plus, he fucking hates wearing a tie.

He arrives at the restaurant to find that their table isn't available yet. He goes to wait in the bar and it takes him a minute to realize that MacKenzie's already there and sitting at the bar herself. Her back is to him and she can't see him yet, which is good because he realizes that between the black dress and her long, long legs, he's standing there staring with his mouth open like a total idiot.

It takes him a minute or two for the message of _get your ass over there and talk to her_ makes it from his brain to his feet.

"Hi," he says eventually, when he makes it over to her. "Our table isn't ready." What he'd actually like to say is _you look fucking fantastic_ , but she doesn't seem to welcome that kind of compliment and this is supposedly business, so this is what he says instead.

MacKenzie downs the rest of her drink and fidgets with her skirt, and Will wonders if she's anywhere as nervous as he is. "Damn. So I guess the great Will McAvoy can't go pull some strings?" MacKenzie pairs this with a smile that is somewhere between friendly and flirty and now Will's just confused.

"Not great enough, apparently," he says as he slides into the seat beside her at the bar. "It shouldn't be long, though." He flags down the bartender and orders a vodka martini. "You made it through the week. Congratulations." He immediately wonders if he shouldn't have said that because it sounds like he didn't think she could do it. "Okay," he adds quickly. "See, there's something you need to know. I'm actually horrifically bad at making small talk. If there was an award for how bad someone could be at small talk, then I'd have a shelf full of them."

It's enough to make her smile. "No, not a whole shelf. I have some too. I just...I get very flustered when I'm nervous. I'm sure you've noticed."

"I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't said anything," he assures her. "Hopefully you're not nervous now. I mean, this isn't a date, so there's nothing to be nervous about. Just two coworkers, having dinner." Maybe if he repeats the fact that it isn't a date enough, then he'll get it through his head that it isn't a date.

"I believe I accused you of treating me like a cheap piece of ass and started vomiting up my credentials the first time we met," MacKenzie says, giving him a little squinty look. "So I believe you are lying to allow me to save face. I think I'll have to give you points for that."

Will laughs softly and sips at his drink. The squinty face is adorable and he can't resist. "I'm sorry that's what it seemed like I was doing," he says. "The truth is, I really did want to go out with you, but I was nervous and screwed it up."

"It's all right. I just...I just recently got out of a relationship with a man who is incredibly fond of pointing out all of my flaws and I'm not really looking to have to prove myself to anyone right now," MacKenzie admits softly. "He was an ass, yes, but I shouldn't have painted you with the same brush just because he patronized me and tried to tear me down when I advanced more quickly."

How anyone could tear down MacKenzie McHale for--well, anything, actually, is a mystery to him. (Actually, how some men get off on tearing down women for any reason or no reason at all is a mystery to him, but that's another story.) "Whoever he is, he's an idiot," Will says, "because you're easily one of the most intelligent and capable people I've met. And beautiful," he adds, almost offhandedly, in case she's offended by a comment on her looks--but he can't help it, because she's wearing a black dress that's sexy as hell and he can't _not_ say it. If it makes him an ass, so be it. "But I don't blame you and I didn't take it personally."

"It's Brian Brenner, he makes a career of being an idiot," MacKenzie says, flustered by his compliment. "And I'm not...I'm reasonably attractive but I'm not beautiful. I'm...it's...God, see, this is exactly what I meant. I can't talk." MacKenzie looks like she wants the ground to open up and swallow her whole. "So. How did you like the new show?"

Will's glad his drink is halfway to his mouth because he can hide his scowl behind his martini glass. He's all too familiar with Brian Brenner and he thinks MacKenzie would be better off without him.

"I liked it a lot," Will says. He's choosing to gloss over her flusteredness over the compliment and not compliment her again because he doesn't want to put her on the spot. "It's too bad I don't have an EP who can keep up with it in the long-term, because it could have been good." He's not saying it to be passive-aggressive; he really does think it's too bad. It's not the kind of thing the anchor can do without some heavy hauling from the right EP. And MacKenzie is _definitely_ the right EP.

*****

MacKenzie doesn't get a chance to answer him because someone has come by to tell them that their table is ready and she slides off the barstool and starts making her way through the crowd. The restaurant is packed and at one point, Will presses his hand against the small of her back to steer her away from a group of people who have possibly had a little too much wine and while the touch is brief, MacKenzie is shocked to realize that not only does she not mind it, she wants more of it.

She's also shocked when Will pulls out her chair and she drops down into it a little less than gracefully; something about him makes her feel like she's all thumbs and she gets so, so nervous. "I have no idea what I want. Do you know what you want?"

Will waits until she's seated before sitting down himself. "I don't know," he says. It’s clear (to her at least) that he still seems impossibly nervous. MacKenzie has no idea why except the part where she’s nervous too and it seems to be contagious. "I've only been here a time or two, but I haven't had anything that wasn't good."

MacKenzie busies herself with the menu but she doesn't get a chance to consider anything before there's a huge fuss and everyone's being herded out because of a fire. There's smoke but they seem to get outside before anything bad really happens and there's a clusterfuck on the sidewalk because everyone's trying to hail cabs and get somewhere in the damned rain. Something about fire always seems to make people start acting like a wild stampede of...something that stampedes and all logic leaves their head. She’s grateful for Will, who is big enough to try and keep most people from pressing against her in this throng and she’s able to move a good bit faster than she would have been capable of right by herself. As much as she hates to admit it to herself, she’s glad it’s him that she’s with right now.

MacKenzie is trying to run in heels so that she and Will can get a little further away from the restaurant before catching their own cab but she steps wrong in a puddle and twists her ankle, ending up sprawled on the pavement with her legs everywhere and her dress ruined. "Fucking _fuck_ why the fuck does this happen to me?! Why? All I wanted was to not look like an idiot for once in my goddamned life and now look at me."

Will kneels down beside her and helps her sit up, and though she's already soaked from the rain, he peels off his jacket and drapes it around her shoulders. "I'm looking at you, and I don't see an idiot," he says. "Are you hurt? Can you stand up?" She landed in an awkward way and she wouldn't be surprised if she twisted something; he keeps his arm around her shoulders and it’s comforting in a strange way.

"I can stand," MacKenzie says, leaning heavily on him to haul herself up. She can't put weight on her foot but he's not exactly a small man and leaning against him seems to help. "If you can help hold me up, that is?"

She hates being so dependent but she thinks she can get a pass for an actual injury. It's a little more intimate than she's used to right at the first but, again, injury, so maybe he'll understand the need.

"Absolutely. We're not far from my place," he says. "I'll get a cab, we can get dried off, take a look at your ankle and see if you need to have it checked out. That okay with you?"

"I don't think I'm going to be going back out, my dress is...a lost cause," MacKenzie admits. "But we can get dried off and see if I need to go to the hospital instead of crawling back in my bed to disappear for the next two days. Hopefully by then I will have forgotten how much of a klutzy fool I am."

MacKenzie likes to be graceful and effortless but grace, for her, comes with quite a bit of effort. She hates that she's made an ass of herself in front of Will, whom she was trying desperately to impress, and somewhere along the way this work dinner became a date.

"You fell down," Will says, trying to flag down a cab. "In the rain. Shit happens, it doesn't mean you're a klutz, so give yourself a break."

It takes longer than usual to get a cab, between the rain and the congestion caused by the restaurant fire, but he eventually manages to catch one and helps her inside. By this time, they're both soaking wet, and MacKenzie is freezing and while Will isn't dry by any stretch, she practically plasters herself up against him in the cab in an attempt to get warm. "This was a disaster of a date," she says, laughing softly, then she realizes _what_ she said. Oh God, no.

"Not...a...oh God, words. I'm terrible at them. I am absolutely horrible at speaking. I didn't mean to put you on the spot about it being a date, I just, it was something to say and I wouldn't mind if it _were_ a date, of course, even if things didn't work out and..."

MacKenzie buries her face in her hands and, again, prays for the ground to open and swallow her whole.

"You said you didn't want to go out on a date with me," he says, and his voice tells her that he’s grinning and MacKenzie is only slightly less embarrassed than before. She so hates it when she’s wrong about someone and looks (and feels) like a fool.

"You're terrible," MacKenzie says, lifting her face from her hands to look at him. "And yes, I didn't want to go out with you, that's true, but that's mostly because you embarrassed me in front of the staff. If you'd asked me in private I might have said yes."

Possibly. She likes him a good deal better now than she did a few days ago because she's discovered he's not actually a smug ass.

"If by 'terrible' you mean 'says stupid things in front of intelligent, beautiful women,' then I am fantastically terrible," Will agrees. "So this is a date, right? Of course, if you say yes, that just means the probability that I'll say something else moronic increases exponentially, so be careful with that answer."

"Yes, it's a date," MacKenzie says, deciding she'll take the risk of him possibly saying something stupid again. She tucks a bit of hair back behind her ear, annoyed that her carefully-done style has frizzed and started to curl because it got wet. Oh well. "It's quite possibly one of the most disastrous dates I've ever been on but it's not really your fault. Nobody could have anticipated the restaurant catching fire."

MacKenzie bites her lower lip, nervous, and looks at him. "When I got dressed, I knew it was a date, you know. I don't wear stockings and a dress like this for a business dinner. I suppose that's not entirely fair of me, is it?"

*****

Will has never wanted to kiss anyone more than he wants to kiss MacKenzie McHale right now. It probably has something to do with the way she's looking up at him with her lip caught between her teeth, makeup smudged from the rain and hair dripping onto her shoulders and yet she still manages to be fucking gorgeous. He wants to kiss her, but he won't, not here in the back of a cab. "No, not fair at all," he says. "Kind of like me asking you on a business dinner and wishing it was an actual date."

"Yes, well, I guess I can't fault you for that," MacKenzie says, laughing lightly. She keeps close during the cab ride and when they arrive at his place, Will is quick to jump out and help her out of the cab, offering her a hand in case her ankle still feels unsteady from the fall. It's not a ruse so that he can have an excuse to touch her; this is just the way he does things and he hopes she doesn't feel patronized.

Once they're upstairs, MacKenzie tries to brush the water off her dress, but she's just as soaked as Will is and it's completely a lost cause. "Do you mind if I take a shower and change into something?" she asks.

"Yeah, no, absolutely," Will says, flicking on the lights. His apartment is small and a little cramped and he's been looking for something better ever since he got this job, but he's fucking picky and also, he fucking hates moving, so he's still here even though he makes enough money that he could have ditched this place ages ago. "Come on back. Everything I have is going to be miles too big for you, but borrow whatever you want while your clothes dry. Be careful with the hot water, it's _really_ hot. I learned that the hard way." He finds clean towels and puts them in the bathroom for her and grabs jeans and a t-shirt for himself. He'll use the guest bath.

"Will?" she says, just as he's about to step out the door. "I need a little help for a moment if you don't think it's too...whatever for a first date."

"Sure." It's not like he's never gotten a woman out of a dress before, although this one proves to be a challenge. The zipper tab is tiny and nearly invisible, but Will manages to get his fingers around it and slowly unzips the dress. He's careful about it, because the wet fabric feels like it will tear if he pulls too hard, but he finally gets it to the end and he's faced with the long, smooth expanse of MacKenzie's back.

Now he's gone from wanting to kiss her to just wanting her.

MacKenzie turns a little and smiles at him over her shoulder. "Thank you. I think I might have twisted the other one if I tried to do that by myself. I promise not to take very long, all right?"

That smile is going to be his fucking undoing, he just knows it.

While MacKenzie is in the shower, Will orders a pizza (since there is nothing in his fridge or freezer but bacon, eggs, beer, soda, and half a carton of some stupidly expensive chocolate ice cream), has a quick shower, pulls on jeans and a t-shirt, and turns the heat up a bit since it's a little chilly in his apartment. Then MacKenzie emerges from his bathroom in his well-worn blue bathrobe and for about half a minute he wonders if she's wearing anything underneath before he mentally slaps himself for being an ass.

"Sorry I kept you waiting," she says.

"No, you're fine," he says. "I just got out, myself." The bathrobe is too big for her. The sleeves dangle past her slender wrists and the bottom of it almost reaches her ankles, but when she moves, he gets a flash of leg that makes him dizzy. (He's aware by now that he has a serious problem.) "I promised you dinner, but I have nothing to cook, so I ordered a pizza. I hope that's okay. And I have beer. And diet Coke. And water, of course, if you'd rather have that, or I could make coffee..."

MacKenzie draws up closer to him, her lips curving in a soft smile, and she presses a finger against his lips to stop him from talking. "Pizza is fine. Beer is fine. Has anyone ever told you that you're cute when you're nervous?"

"Only when a thank-you dinner between co-workers turns into a dating disaster." Her hair is still damp from the shower and she smells like his shampoo but also very feminine, too, and it's driving him crazy. "And I thought I was supposed to be going for making men want to be me and women want to fuck me, not 'cute'." It was her advice, and it definitely sounded better coming out of her mouth than his. Maybe he should just stop talking.

Maybe he should just kiss her.

His hands find their way to her waist--she's so slim that his hands could probably _span_ her waist, if she wasn't wrapped in this thick bathrobe--and he can feel the warmth of her body through the soft fabric.

"That's on camera," MacKenzie says and it's stupid because what she actually wants to say is that, yes, she wants to fuck him and she doesn't really care what she thinks of herself in the morning afterward. Right now, she really, really wants to just be with him because he's showed her something real tonight and she read him all wrong when they first met.

Instead, she tips her face up for a kiss, eyes lazily drifting shut. She probably looks fucking stupid but there's no harm in trying and missing, right?

His hands slide around to her back as he pulls her close to kiss her, and his lips are just an inch from hers when the intercom buzzes.

Will's life has _spectacular_ timing.

" _Fuck_. Shit. Sorry. It's the food." He rubs her back lightly, reluctant to let go. "Don't go anywhere, okay? I'm going to deal with this and then... I'll be back. Don't go anywhere."

"Will, I have no panties and a sprained ankle. I don't think I'm going anywhere," MacKenzie says, laughing a little and trying to hide that behind her hand. "Go get the food and come back. I won't have gone down the fire escape in that amount of time."

Will's never moved so fast in his life. He goes downstairs and gives the kid a wad of cash that he doesn't even bother to count (it's enough to make the kid's eyes bug out) and when he gets back upstairs, he tosses the box on the counter. "So when you said you weren't wearing anything under that robe, was that hyperbole or a hint to move this conversation out of the kitchen and into the bedroom?"

*****

"Well," MacKenzie says, trying to play at coy, "You could come over here and find out what I am or am not wearing under this robe. To answer your question from earlier, though, just because I think you're cute when you’re nervous doesn't mean you're not completely fuckable. You're absolutely fuckable. You're...unbelievably fuckable. In fact, I wanted to fuck you on the anchor desk in the middle of the studio last night with people watching, you're that fuckable."

"Shit, I just sold my spare anchor desk on eBay," he jokes, sliding his arms around her again, "and I don't think you want my neighbors watching, because they're overly critical and like to interrupt at the wrong moments, but if you're still interested, I think we can, you know, some to some kind of arrangement."

"I don't normally do this," MacKenzie says, feeling the need to put that out there. She doesn't like being perceived as easy or slutty even if it's stupid that it even concerns her. It shouldn't matter that she enjoys sex and doesn't wait an arbitrary amount of time before having it with someone new but for some reason, it does, and she wants to impress him and let him know this is an aberration in how she normally engages with men.

"I don't normally do this but I want to, with you, if it's something you're interested in with me?"

"More than interested." He leans in to kiss her and it’s a little softer and more hesitant than she would expect. Jesus Christ, he's trying to kill her. MacKenzie appreciates the attempt to be a gentleman but she's far past being polite when all she wants to do is climb him. She presses up against him and curls her hand around the back of his neck, kissing him deeper. She's never been with someone quite like Will McAvoy. He's old enough that he has his shit together, which is more than she can say for most men she's dated, and he's a little old-fashioned and kind of sweet. She's never had that before in her life.

"Seriously, Will, I mean it. I want you."

Will groans and slides his hands down her back to cup her ass and press her body firmly against his, but it's not enough, and he boosts her up onto a clear space on the granite countertop instead. "I wanted you since the minute you told me I would never get away with my bullshit on your watch." He murmurs this against her skin as he's kissing her neck and pulling the belt of the robe loose so he can slide his hands underneath.

"I would never, ever let someone as smart as you get away with the shit Daniel lets you get away with," MacKenzie murmurs back, tipping her head a little so he can get more access. "I would kick your ass for it. In four inch heels."

Once he tugs the belt loose, MacKenzie rolls her shoulders a little so it slides off. She probably looks a little ridiculous, topless with an oversized robe pooled around her waist but she doesn't care when he's looking at her like this.

He dips his head to kiss her breast, drawing the nipple into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue until it's tight and hard and he does the same with the other one as he slides his hands up the insides of her thighs. "Barefoot, four inch heels, I don't care," Will says, and catches her mouth with his again.

"Christ, Billy, if you don't hurry up and get me somewhere and fuck me I'm going to...well, something," MacKenzie says, realizing that her threat isn't very potent when she doesn't actually know what she's threatening him with. She also realizes she's just called him by a nickname and it's stupid as fuck but it was in the heat of the moment and hopefully he won't notice it.

"Please?"

He kisses her hard, scooping her off the countertop and wrapping her legs around him to carry her to the bedroom. When Will lays her back against the bed, MacKenzie makes a valiant attempt at looking sexy by pouting a little and sliding her thighs apart. She isn't sure if she's entirely successful but since he's carried her back here, she doesn't think she can really do much wrong.

"Come here? Please?"

"I was going to get out of these clothes first, but okay," he says, and leans in to kiss her. He’s pressing against her and she can feel just how much he wants this, wants _her_ , and she thinks there’s nothing more intoxicating until he groans low in the back of his throat.

MacKenzie breaks the kiss and leans in to kiss him again, this time brushing her lips against the corner of his mouth. He has a little scar under his chin, something she hasn't noticed before now, and she wonders why. Maybe she'll ask him about it someday.

"Okay. I allow you to undress now."

"You sure? Because for a minute there, I thought I was going to have to convince you to let me up." He gets up and peels off his tshirt and jeans and boxers and drops them all in a careless pile on the floor before sliding back into bed with her.

"Oh, absolutely. I think your viewership would go way up if you were always this fuckable," MacKenzie teases, reaching for him. "Now, I'm an injured woman, so I believe you're going to have to go easy on me. No acrobatics tonight, I'm afraid."

"I think I can manage that," he murmurs, and kisses her. It's a kiss that's messy and hungry and MacKenzie is pretty much convinced that she's never kissed someone quite as good at kissing as Will is. Most men tend to rush past kissing to get to other things but with Will, even though they're both naked, he seems content to just keep kissing her. MacKenzie presses herself against him and it's just not enough. She's not close enough.

"Will, _please_?"

"Getting there," he says, and he slides a hand down her body and between her thighs and she's so fucking wet his fingers glide easily over her clit. She thinks possibly she should play a little harder to get but it’s hard to fake not being aroused when she feels this fucking good.

MacKenzie is sure that if Will's mouth wasn't still fitted against hers, she'd be moaning and making a general fool of herself. She's always been a little loud in bed and Brian used to poke fun at her for it (don't scream, Mac, you'll wake the neighbors. God, Mac, do you need to have a running commentary?) so she gets a little self-conscious, especially since Will is someone new and she hasn't had new in such a long time. Instead, her toes curl a little and she grabs his ass, pressing as close as she can.

"Jesus, MacKenzie," he groans, pulling away from her mouth to nuzzle at her neck, fingers still stroking her clit. "You feel so fucking good."

"Oh! No...no real complaints from me either," MacKenzie says, hips rocking up against his hand. She wants him to fuck her but she guesses Will wants to bring her off first; it seems to fit with the other ways he's been a gentleman tonight and she thinks it makes her fall for him a little more. MacKenzie can very much see herself falling for Will McAvoy someday.

"Please fuck me? Please, Will?"

He draws out what he's doing with his fingers just a little longer until she thinks she’s going to go insane and then reaches in the bedside table for a condom.

"Oh my God, I wish I could ride you," MacKenzie says, not the least bit embarrassed about saying it right out loud. She wishes she wasn't going to run the risk of possibly fucking her ankle up further to do it, though, and it's probably safer if he's on top.

"Next time we fuck, I'm on top." Oops. She's already announcing her intentions to do this _again._

"Oh, I think we can make that happen right now, if we're careful," he says, grinning wide. "Come here." He's careful with her, easing her on top of him, and MacKenzie appreciates the care and kindness he puts into it. She’s not entirely used to having a man like that.

"Mmm, I was so hoping you'd do all the work this time since you were so good to me earlier but...I like this best," MacKenzie admits, shifting a little to take him inside her. "Oh my fucking God, you feel so good."

He groans when she slides down on top of him, and it's really an indecent sound; MacKenzie loves every last second of it. His hands are all over her--cupping her breasts that seem to fit perfectly in his hands, moving lower to rub his thumb against her clit.

"Fuck," MacKenzie hisses, biting her lower lip a little to keep other, more ridiculous sounds from coming out. She's keeping it slow for now but she knows she won't last long, not with the way he's looking at her and touching her and making her feel like she's something precious and beautiful. MacKenzie is not entirely used to something like this.

"Have to move faster," she warns, hips rocking against him. "Need more than just this."

"Yes," he says, low, and the word stretches out and turns into a soft hiss as she rocks her hips against him, and he thrusts up into her in a way that says that more is both wanted and desperately needed.

It doesn't take MacKenzie long. Will's touching her in all the right places and there's been enough buildup all night that it's easy for her to just let herself stop worrying about how she looks or sounds and just gives over to feeling _good_ and coming with a little bit of a high-pitched sound. She's embarrassed, yes, but it's in the back of her mind for now.

It doesn't take Will long, either and it seems to take him a few moments to get his breath back and in the meantime, he's skimming his fingers over her skin; she likes that he doesn’t seem to rush this part after he’s gotten his and wants to spend the time with her. It’s sweet and endearing and yet another thing she didn’t know about Will McAvoy.

MacKenzie laughs softly, breathless and comfortable and oh-so-satisfied. She lightly trails her fingers down his chest before shifting to move off him, giving him a little smile.

"Did you really ask Charlie Skinner about me or was that bullshit?"

"Absolutely," Will says. He gets up to deal with the condom and settles beside her again. "I saw you across the room and asked him who you were. I wanted to have a name to put with those fantastic legs."

"Ass," MacKenzie says, but there's no heat behind it and she's blushing faintly. "So I guess I was half right, at least, that you weren't talking to Charlie about my credentials. I think I'll let you get away with it."

"I didn't talk to him about your legs," Will says, dragging a hand down one of the legs in question. "I just asked him who you were. _He_ started talking about your credentials and I was suitably impressed. So there."

"So is that what you like then? My legs?" MacKenzie asks, lifting the non-injured one and wiggling her ankle a little. "These long, slender, well-shaped legs?"

She likes teasing him now because she's discovered that beneath the cool exterior he puts out on air, Will is apparently sweet and really wants to impress her. MacKenzie feels a good bit more at ease with him as a _person_ than she ever did with him as an anchor.

He slides his hand behind her knee and settles her leg over his hip. "Your fucking fantastic legs," he says, "and that mind of yours that can run a show perfectly when you barely planned it, and that fucking mouth of yours you aren't afraid to boss me around with." And everything in between, though he figures that's enough for now, so he doesn't look like a complete fool.

"Will, I was wrong," MacKenzie murmurs, sliding her hand up to cup his cheek. "I was wrong about you and I'm sorry. You're not an ass. You're...you're not the kind of man that is usually interested in a woman like me. I don't normally date men who are kind and smart and impossibly sweet."

Will makes a little dismissive noise. "I don't normally date EPs who hand me my ass from the control room," he says, and leans in to kiss her. "Or EPs ever, actually. Are you hungry? I did promise you dinner. I try not to be a cheap date."

"I was being serious," MacKenzie says, sighing a little. "But yes, I could eat. I don't actually remember to eat all that often. I'm forgetful that way, I have to be reminded." She also is blessed with a high metabolism so when she does splurge, it goes away quickly.

"Besides, I think, even without food, this is the best first date I've had in a long time."

 

*****

MacKenzie spends the night and Will is over the fucking moon.

In the next week, he doesn't bother her at work. She's indicated that she doesn't like mixing work and personal life and that's fine with Will; it's easier, that way, for him not to be too bitchy about the fact that she's gone back to six o'clock and he doesn't have her in his ear anymore. But they talk on the phone most nights after work and they go out again on Saturday and it's another weekend of the best sex Will can ever remember having.

He's totally falling in love with her. It's ridiculous, he's only known her a couple of weeks, but he just _knows_. Just hearing her voice in his ear on the phone makes him feel like a goddamn teenager. So when he goes to work the next Monday, he's practically skipping down the goddamn hall.

He's even more cheerful after he and Daniel meet with Charlie and learns that because of the significant rise in his ratings the week that MacKenzie was his EP and the subsequent drop after Daniel returned, Charlie's moving her off the six o'clock show and on to Will's show at eight and Daniel's moving to EP the six o'clock show. MacKenzie and her anchor have already met with Charlie and the switch starts tomorrow.

Will can't _believe_ his good luck.

After he gets out of his meeting with Charlie, he goes to see her in her office.

He knocks twice and pushes open the door. "Hey," he says, sticking his head in. "You got a minute?"

"Yes, I believe so. Several, actually, since I have a new show to research for."

"So you've talked to Charlie." He comes on into her office, letting the door close behind him. "The week you ran my show, the ratings were higher than they've ever been, and now I get to have you back on a permanent basis! This is great. This is... this is the best news I've heard all week." He can barely contain his enthusiasm, and it's only the fact that he's actually in her office and not somewhere else that keeps him from acting like a fool.

"Yes, it's wonderful. I think this is the fastest promotion that an executive producer at ACN has ever received. I've only been here a month and I'm already promoted," MacKenzie says, her voice a little soft and defeated. "Will, we have to break up. I can't...not that we're exclusive or boyfriend and girlfriend or anything but I can't be with you and work for you. Everyone will think that you asked for me because I put out for you and I'll never be taken seriously."

"What?" It takes Will a moment to realize that not only is she not as excited about this as he is, she's breaking it off with him because of it because she's concerned how it looks. "MacKenzie--no. You don't work for me, it's a collaboration. I didn't hire you, that's Charlie. Wait, you don't think that I asked for you, do you? Because as much as I wanted to have you back, I didn't think it was my place to go lobby for you and try to steal you from six o'clock."

"I don't know what to think. This is completely unprecedented and I know you asked Charlie about me before...before everything," MacKenzie says, speaking as though she's choosing her words carefully. "I'm stuck, Will. I can't turn this down, it's career suicide. I just...I don't...I don't think anyone will hear what I'm trying to say when they realize we're together. They'll think I'm a flake and a joke and that I've gotten special favors because of what I do for you in our private lives. It's so much easier for you, Will. They'd never assume this of you. But I'm a woman, a young woman, and the deck is stacked against me."

"Anybody who knows we're together--which is nobody, right now, because I haven't said a word and we've kept this to ourselves--also knows that the numbers for my show went up the week you ran it," Will says. He has to make her see reason. "It's not a special favor, it's a promotion because Charlie can see that you got my numbers up when three different EPs couldn't move them anywhere but down. We've kept this out of work for a week. We can continue to keep it out of work. No one has to know."

"We have to stop going out. I know you're not that famous right now but if the numbers go up, more people are going to notice you. We have to...nothing happens here, nothing happens anywhere other than your place or mine. No flowers, no gifts, just...it has to be secret," she says. "All right?"

"MacKenzie..." He's not really happy with that scenario, because he thinks there's a difference between keeping it out of work and keeping it hidden completely, like he's ashamed of her or something. He absolutely isn't. The last couple of weeks have been the best he can remember for a long time and he's not ready for that to be over. "I understand your concerns, I really do, but I don't think it's going to be a problem. I've never dated anyone in the office before, but it's because there's never been anyone in the office I wanted to date, not because it isn't allowed. Just... don't push the panic button yet, okay?"

"This isn't smart, Will," MacKenzie says, clearly torn about it. "Will, I don't want to look like a fool and I'm _going_ to. I'm going to make you look like one too and I just...I don't..." Her voice wavers a little; she covers her mouth and turns her face away. "What we have seems like it could be really good. You have to believe me when I say this is the last thing I could have wanted, to have to make this choice."

Will's not an idiot. He can see she's upset about this and his instinct is to try to comfort her but he can't, not when half her wall is glass and anyone walking by can see them and get the wrong idea, which is the very fucking thing she's worried about. "All right." He's reluctant to press her when it's so important to her, even though in his gut he knows he ought to fight for this. "But I don't want a relationship with you that's just clandestine fucking. I like you a lot, MacKenzie. Way too much for something like that."

And now he's at a loss for words. He's finding that MacKenzie McHale does that to him a lot these days. He drums his fingers nervously on the back of a nearby chair. "I have to go iron things out with Daniel," he says. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"So we are breaking up?" When he doesn't immediately answer (because how do you answer a question like that?) she adds, "Will, can't you just go to Charlie and explain this? Explain why I would really rather stay at six and not...Christ, I hate this. I hate it, Will, I hate it."

"I'll leave that up to you." Will feels like the world's biggest ass, but he doesn't know what else to do. "Charlie isn't going to let you stay at six because you're too damn good for that slot and he has the numbers to back him up. It's a business decision. I'm willing to keep all of this--us--out of work, but I'm not willing to keep it completely secret from everywhere like our relationship is something to be ashamed of, because I'm not ashamed of it. I like you. A lot. More than I've liked anyone for a long time, and I'm not going to treat you like someone to just fuck on the weekends in secret because you deserve better than that, and I'm also not willing to get in the way of your career because you're good, MacKenzie. You're really fucking good at what you do and you deserve the promotion."

His voice softens a little and becomes more gentle. "Look, we don't have to decide anything right now. Just think about it. Take as long as you want and when you want to talk about it again, we'll talk. I don't care how long it is. I'm not going anywhere. You're worth waiting for."

It's not the place he wants to leave this conversation, but it has to be because there's work to do. 

Will leaves immediately after the show that night and goes straight home, where he proceeds to get somewhat drunk. He's not sure if what he said to MacKenzie was the best thing and he's terrified that having her as his EP full-time is going to be some kind of Pyrrhic victory. Yeah, they've only been out twice and it's not like they've invested a huge amount of time and effort into this relationship yet, but he has this gut feeling that they can be good for each other and he feels like he's watching it all circle the drain. And he can't do anything about it. It's not like he can deny her this chance to advance her career. No EP at ACN has ever, as far as Will knows, been promoted this quickly (because no EP at ACN has ever been this good). He wouldn't deny her the chance even if he could, because he's not an asshole.

He's sprawled on the couch with the remnants of his last beer getting warm on the table beside him when the intercom buzzes, and when he hears MacKenzie's voice, he's on his feet immediately.

"Will, it's me," she says into the intercom, her voice flat and tinny from the creaky speaker. "Can I come up? I'm an idiot."

"Yeah," he says. "Come on up."

When he opens the door, she's standing there wrinting her hands and looking miserable and confused. "Will? Will, I'm so stupid. I'm completely and absolutely stupid."

"C'mere." He doesn't even let her in the door all the way before he pulls her into his arms and holds her close. They _fit_ together. "You're not stupid," he says quietly.

"Pretty stupid," MacKenzie insists, burying her face in against his neck. "I just don't want people to think badly of me when I'm merely trying to do my job _and_ make myself happy, you know? EPing your show has nothing to do with what we do outside of it and I just don't want anyone to think it does. But breaking up with you...even if you can call it that after two dates and some great sex...that's not something I'm willing to do."

This isn't a conversation that Will wants to have in the hallway, so he steers her inside and closes the door. "What do you want to do?" he asks her. "I'm willing to follow your lead on this. The only thing I'm not willing to do is turn this into a thing that only exists for fucking on the weekends. I'm not going to lie and say I've never done that before, because I have, but that's not what I want with you." What he wants with MacKenzie goes way, way beyond that--which is fucking crazy as he's only known her a couple of weeks.

"You're the only man I've ever met who would turn down a guaranteed booty call," MacKenzie says incredulously, but she's smiling, and that gives Will a little hope. "Let's just keep doing what we're doing. If it comes out, it comes out, and I'll deal with it, all right?"

Will loves that smile of hers and he can't help but take it for a good sign. "Nothing at work," he says. "And if the shit hits the fan--and I don't think it will, but if it does--I'll be right there with you."

"No, nothing at work. I'll just have to keep my drooling at a minimum," MacKenzie says, grinning at him. "Because Jesus fucking Christ, you're the reason that Giorgio Armani went into the suit business."

"Well, I don't know about all that," he says, cupping her face and leaning in to kiss her. It's just a simple kiss because it's really fucking late and they are both exhausted, but he _wants_ to kiss her because it's either that or tell her how he really feels about her and he thinks if he does that he'll scare her off.

MacKenzie slips her hand into his when the kiss finally ends. "We'll figure this out, together, one step at a time. For now, I guess we just have to remember that we're on mutual ground here but that I will actually own your ass in the studio between eight and nine every weeknight."

She grins at him, seeming pleased. "Do you understand?"

"Eight and nine, every weeknight," he replies. "Got it." And he's actually looking forward to it, too.


End file.
